


Across the Studio

by theashemarie



Category: Splatoon
Genre: F/F, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Lesbians, Makeouts, Post-Octo Expansion DLC, Rating for Cursing, i think?? i lowkey forgot i wrote this, pov pearl, request from @CaudenArt on Twitter!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:34:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25325461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theashemarie/pseuds/theashemarie
Summary: "Pearl felt her brow furrow. 'Was that... Was that your first kiss?''Like... ever?' Pearl asked, just to clarify. She crashed right back into her body, the bubbly airiness of the kiss evaporating as the reality of this slammed into her.Marina shrugged and reached up to play with one of her tentacles, a clear sign that she was uncomfortable. 'I, uh... I mean... There was never anyone else I wanted to kiss...'"[In-Canon, Post-Octo Expansion]
Relationships: Marina/Pearl (Splatoon)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 81





	1. On the Couch

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure this story was suggested by @CaudenArt on Twitter, way back in 2019, so everyone say thank you Cauden.

They were at the studio when it happened. It was after hours, the blinds were pulled, and the staff was gone—all the lighting people, the producers, the director, the editors, the sound guys, all gone home for the night like reasonable people. But, this Splatfest script was Pearl and Marina’s responsibility and they promised each other they wouldn’t leave until it was finished—and stay they did. The clock was peeking over the hill of Thursday into Friday, starting the final eight-hour countdown until they would have to be right back here at this table, fresh-eyed and dewy-faced in their costumes, and they weren’t close to done.

Usually, announcement scripts didn’t give them this much trouble, but today Marina was hunched over the table, staring into the bright screen of her laptop like she was looking into the light of the sun. Her t-shirt was too big and was slipping off one shoulder and her hair was tied back into a loose ponytail that fell down her back. She had one hand pressed into her head, as if she had a giant headache, and every few seconds, Pearl swore she heard her mutter something in Octarian.

Pearl, for her part, had her hood pulled up and was pressing her forehead into the table. She’d been lying like that for at least two hours now, mumbling into the tabletop. Every now and then, she looked up at Marina by lolling her head to the side, but otherwise, that was how she stayed. Her head was just too heavy now, what with their early, active day and the fact that they hadn’t gotten a single break. Lunch was spent on the phone, stuffing sandwiches into their faces between breaths, and the time between recordings was spent emailing or working with people in wardrobe. Marina had to order new sound equipment for herself and Pearl had to contact a contractor because she might have caused a few cracks in the foundation when she screamed at a video game a few nights ago; plus, they had a fundraiser for the Inkopolis fire fighters coming up that they had to prepare for, along with a photoshoot, a concert, the splatfest, Marina was designing a new shifty station, and they had a new single dropping soon.

They didn’t really have time for this, but here they were, spit balling, trying and failing to write dialogue that wasn’t due for a week. Truth was, they didn’t have time to do it after this though. Their week until the next splatfest announcement was _jammed_ and they _had_ to get it done tonight. Tomorrow, after they get off, they’ll be rushed right to Starfish Mainstage for a concert, and after that it’ll be nonstop. They’ll be lucky if they get to sleep.

Originally, Pearl planned on this script going quickly. She wanted to ask Marina to come back to her place for a movie and popcorn, to get some much-needed relaxation before things took off again this week. They hadn’t seen much of each other in their off time lately, mostly because they hadn’t _had_ much off time—just enough for dinner and sleep, which they did at their own apartments because Marina needed the quiet and Pearl was boring now and didn’t want to party when she had work the next morning. Sure, they spent all of their daytime lives together, but it was always when they were working and surrounded by people. A never-ending revolving door of people checking sound levels, checking wardrobe, checking album art, directing them, adjusting lights, checking makeup, operating cameras, asking questions—and they all had ears. A constant mass of ears that might not be actively listening but could still hear whatever they said, whatever they joked about, whatever they mentioned of their personal lives.

Every word was measured, every sentence was thought about, at least from Marina’s side. She was incredibly reserved these days, seemed to mull over everything before she acted, seemed to pause after every thought, and the only time Pearl saw her relax were those rare moments between recording sessions when they sat in their chairs and talked; Marina knew the microphones were off and the kids on the other side of the window couldn’t hear them.

For Pearl’s part, she didn’t really care much. She was used to her every move being analyzed and watched so she didn’t give it much thought, just blurted out whatever was on her mind (within reason, of course). It put Marina into a few spots because Marina clearly _cared_ , she cared _so much_ about their image and being professional and maintaining a respectful distance between personal and professional life. Pearl respected that, but she missed hanging out with a Marina that wasn’t walled off; she missed the Marina that geeked out over small technological things, the one who pointed out every bird in the sky because they were so incredible, the one who craned her neck back all the way back every morning to say hello to the zapfish as they walked through the plaza.

It didn’t make for a good environment where they could feel close, not like before. Before all this, they spent the same amount of time together but talked about whatever they wanted. Of course, they were busy then too, but it was a different, more private kind of busy, where they worked on music and jabbered all day. These days, they only had a few moments that were just them—early morning, when they spent a couple minutes before call catching up and doing their makeup, lunch, which was often spent on the phone, and the evening when they said goodbye for the night. Almost every night they spoke on the phone, but otherwise, their time together was taken up with other things.

Pearl missed Marina, missed her like she hadn’t seen her in months. Sure, she spent all day with her, but it was at arm’s length. They didn’t really connect anymore, _couldn’t_ connect, beyond those few small instances. But even those moments were framed with awareness of the microphones and cameras, of the kids that pressed their faces to the glass outside. She missed her best friend, and all she wanted was to spend time with her tonight.

But the script fought them and here they were now: Marina staring at the screen and Pearl with her head on the table because she was so disappointed. There would be no time for the movie now, no time for anything except sleep, if they ever got this damn thing done. She felt like her heart was falling out a little.

(Ignoring, also, how she felt about Marina, how, despite all this, she still managed to develop these feelings from so far away. She wanted that closeness back so she could understand, so she could explain maybe, so she could package it all up and put it away, so it didn’t tempt her to complicate things further.)

“I give up,” Marina moaned, pushing away from the table. She tugged her glasses off and threw them onto the table with a clatter so she could rub her eyes. “Just let an intern do it.”

Pearl rolled her neck so she could send Marina a weak glare. “The last time we did that, they had us mean bickering. It’s like that’s all they know, after Callie and Marie.”

“Pearlie... It’s almost midnight. I _don’t care_.”

Pearl sat up. It wasn’t like Marina to _not care_ about their work. For a second, she found herself distracted by Marina’s exhausted, beautiful face, the way her tentacles were limp, the way her skin looked heavy. She stood and moved toward Marina, hands out. “You okay? You got a fever?” Pearl reached for Marina’s face to check her temperature but was quickly swatted away.

“Haha, _no_. I’m _tired_. I want to _go home_. We need to _sleep_.”

She was right. Pearl knew she was right, but she didn’t have a solution. They had to write this dumb script and then they could sleep. “Let’s just... Let’s bullshit the script. Then we can go crash on the couches in our dressing rooms or something.”

“I—” Marina let out a small breath. “Since when are you the reasonable one?”

Pearl shrugged. “You get cranky when you’re up past your bedtime.”

“Yeah, I guess so...” Marina sighed and plucked her glasses back up. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

Pearl considered that a victory. They would spend the rest of the night together, here at the studio, and that was better than going home and saying goodbye for the night. At least now, with Marina tired and relaxed, she could maybe see some of the Marina that she missed so dearly.

“We got this,” Pearl muttered, and went back to sit across from her best friend.

+++

To be precise, they were in Marina’s dressing room when it happened. The script went quickly once they realized that sleep wasn’t too far away—just up the stairs and down the hall—so they knocked it out. It was probably shitty and would need to be revised, but it would do for now, at woozy o’clock.

They booked it up the stairs as fast as their tired legs could carry them and lingered at the doors to their dressing rooms, staring at each other, not willing to say goodnight despite over-tiredness. This happened every day, usually in the evening behind the studio when they said goodbye for the night and went to their respective apartments. Marina lived across the city in a cheap little place that she hadn’t moved out of even though she could definitely afford to, and Pearl was right down the block from the studio in her father’s biggest, most expensive building, way at the top. She didn’t pay rent.

But every day they did this little song and dance, lingered and stalled saying goodbye for the evening. The truth was that Pearl never wanted to leave Marina’s side because she had a huge, embarrassing crush on her. She’d come to accept this months ago, when she quietly had a panic over how Marina made her insides squish and squirm with a pleasant array of heat. And this wasn’t like any old crush—she’d had crushes before, but they were _nothing_ like this. She worried about Marina when they said goodnight and couldn’t relax until Marina texted her, as she always did, when she was eating dinner, because she knew Marina had to travel through the city alone. She knew that Marina could take care of herself, being an octoling and a trained soldier and all, but that didn’t stop the worry for one second. _And,_ she was constantly aware of Marina’s every move, of how her hair wriggled when she was excited or happy or upset, of how Marina seemed to like her back.

Pearl wasn’t blind. She could tell that Marina felt _something_. She could tell in the way Marina looked at her when she thought Pearl wouldn’t notice, or the way her hands lingered on Pearl’s—like earlier, after they finished the script, when she reached across the table to grab Pearl’s fingers and squeezed. Her hand stayed there for a touch too long, fingers warm and callused, but Pearl didn’t pull away because that would have called attention to it, and besides, she liked it. And she could tell Marina liked it too.

She knew that Marina felt something and that seemed complicated just now, when Pearl was tired and on the verge of something. She felt itchy all of the sudden, and her tongue detached from the top of her mouth, gummy and dry, and Marina was looking at her with half-hooded, exhausted eyes, makeup smeared, shirt still too big and hanging off one shoulder. That shoulder is smooth and sharp, toned, and it made Pearl shift from foot to foot, suddenly aware of how hot she felt in her hoodie.

They stood there and stared at each other, and maybe it was because it was close to one in the morning, but Pearl was feeling brave. All this _lingering_ was killing her, and what was one more complication in their already busy lives anyway? She couldn’t remember why she kept it a secret anyway, especially because her brain was fuzzy and begging for sleep. Her mouth was on its own and it _really_ wanted to say something to Marina because she was _right there,_ and she looked so pretty in her bright pink shirt—was that Pearl’s shirt? Where did Marina even get that anyway?

“Pearlie...” Marina said, and it was in such a tender, gentle, sleepy voice that Pearl’s instincts kicked in. That was the voice that Pearl remembered from years ago, when they were both still living in Pearl’s childhood home, and Marina woke up from a nightmare, shaken, and padded across the hall to Pearl’s room. She stood at Pearl’s bedside, hands clutched in the hem of her shirt, and explained, in that same voice, how she couldn’t get back to sleep and could she please sleep on the floor in here. Pearl always made her climb into the bed—it was big enough for them to have ample room between them—and that voice always lived in her mind. It was the voice of unsaid need. She knew immediately that she needed to comfort Marina about something.

She darted across the hall and grabbed Marina into the biggest hug she could manage. Marina let out a small, surprised sound but, soon enough, Pearl felt a pair of arms wrap around her body in return.

“P- _Pearl_?” Marina gasped as she hugged right back. “You okay? What’s wrong?”

Pearl looked up at her, suddenly overtaken. Her head was pounding and her stomach was a complex maze of knots, but her filter, the small set of common sense soldiers that were holding the line of defense, holding her back from spilling all her messy, tender feelings on Marina, was gone, one of the first systems disabled as her energy depleted. She was running on her most basic, primal systems.

And basic, primal Pearl wanted to tell Marina everything. Immediately.

“I miss you! I wanted to ask you over tonight to watch a movie or something but _nooooo_ we had to write that stupid script! And! I wanna kiss you!” Pearl said into Marina’s chest, voice muffled by fabric.

Marina turned to stone and Pearl jerked, looked up with wide eyes, as her common sense came back online, too late but in recovery mode.

“I—I mean—!” Pearl tried.

“Let’s get out of the hallway,” Marina said, voice as still as the ocean before a tsunami. She dragged Pearl into her dressing room and flipped the light on. Pearl let the door close behind her with a soft _click_. She couldn’t feel her feet or her face or her body.

“C’mere.” Marina led Pearl to the couch, pressed as it was into the corner, away from the hot lights of her makeup mirror and the noise (or silence) of the hallway. Primly, she sat, back straight, and guided Pearl to sit next to her.

“Okay, I’m going to just... If you want, I’ll forget what you just said,” Marina said. “We’re both tired and I know that messes with you so—”

“I meant it,” Pearl blurted. So much for recovery mode.

“ _Oh_ ,” Marina breathed. She looked away, face painted with a delicious little blush and—

_No, no_! This wasn’t _right_. Pearl shook her head, then shook her body in a great convulsion from her crown to the soles of her feet, as if shaking herself back into her skin. She needed to get control of herself and stop this presumptuous shit. This was _Marina_ , not some random girl on the street, and she had to do this _right_ — Marina was blushing because she was _uncomfortable_ , not because she wanted to kiss _back_ —

“I... Uh,” Marina stuttered, and impulsively pushed a squirming tentacle behind her ear. And wasn’t that strange? Not two minutes ago that same hair was limp and exhausted, but now it was alive with nervous, excited wiggles.

Probably because she was uncomfortable, Pearl told herself.

Pearl smacked her hands on the tops of her thighs and stood. “Y’know what? Yeah, let’s forget it. I’m gonna...” She pointed at the door. “Yeah.”

“Wait!” Marina lunged forward and grabbed Pearl’s arm. Her grip was strong, and, for a second, Pearl couldn’t think because her whole existence narrowed to that point of contact; her nerves fired like excited, hopping frogs under Marina’s palm and she stared, mouth slack.

“Uh... I... I want... to kiss you...” Marina let go of Pearl’s arm, releasing her from the spell, and for a second, she wasn’t sure she heard correctly. “Too,” Marina added.

Okay, so... Odds were, Pearl straight up was dreaming. The reality of this situation was probably that she told Marina goodnight in the hall, crashed on her couch, and now she was here, dreaming up this situation. Because there was absolutely _no way_ Marina just said that.

But then, why were her hands so sweaty? And her thighs were stinging from where she just hit them. Weren’t things supposed to not hurt in dreams? And Marina was looking at her all blushy and expectant and from the side of her eye and Pearl _really_ needed to say something, anything.

“Huh?” she managed.

“I wanna... kiss you... too.”

“You...? _Me?_ ” She was absolutely dreaming, but, she decided in that moment, she wanted to ride this out. Because this was the most realistic dream she’d had in a while and she needed this, if she was ever going to get over Marina like she wanted to. The best way was to work through it in her head, right?

Marina bit her lip and glanced away again, blushing once more. This time, Pearl read her blush for what it was: excited embarrassment. Marina peaked up at her and gave her a small, close-mouthed grin. “If you want,” she answered.

Pearl dropped back onto the couch and crossed her legs in front of her, balanced with her back against the armrest. She landed wrong on her left leg and it let out a spark of pain in warning, and that was exactly when it hit her that _no, this wasn’t a dream_ and _yes, Marina really is sitting across from you, offering to lock lips._

This was...

There was no time for thinking. Marina was looking at her with a rare vulnerable light in her eyes and Pearl needed to reassure her, to make sure that this wasn’t going to blow up and to keep this train moving. The last thing she wanted was to hesitate too long and give Marina the wrong impression.

“I... If _you_ want to. I... I’ve— Mar... Have you been...?” Pearl waved her hands, unable to find the words for _flirting with me_ because she didn’t know if she could call what they’d been doing _flirting_. It felt like more than that, what with the spending all their time together and the lingering and the long hand holds and the long stares and the inside jokes and the way Pearl always laughed when Marina made a joke because she was the funniest person alive and how Marina always seemed to know exactly what Pearl was thinking before even Pearl did and how sometimes, at night, they would stay up talking on the phone because they missed each other’s voices.

Marina seemed to pick up what Pearl was putting down though, because she placed a careful hand on Pearl’s knee. “For a few months, yeah. Ever since... Agent Eight... And we saved the world. I... Uh... I—”

“Same,” Pearl cut in. “Well, not exactly. I was... Before that. Yeah. Not much but...”

Marina let out a small breath and pulled her hand back. “Oh, good. I— I couldn’t be sure. This is—”

“A lot,” Pearl filled in. “Yeah. I mean... We can... Are you _sure_? Because, we can _try_.”

Marina bit her lip. “I want to. What’s the worst that can happen?”

_I can think of a lot_ , Pearl’s inner voice muttered, but she decided to put that away for a second. Because that voice was right—this wasn’t something they had the privilege of messing up. They _needed_ each other; their careers depended on their synergy and their bond, but there was so much that could go _right_ from this one, small moment of bravery. And it was past one in the morning, so the outside world didn’t exist anymore. It was a void, a space of white TV static and not much else, where people didn’t exist in it so much as moved through it in transit to their warm, one-in-the-morning homes. Anything that happened now wasn’t real, if they decided it to be that way.

“Look,” Pearl said, just to be sure. “If something _does_ go wrong, we’ll just leave it here okay? Whatever happens in the next five minutes doesn’t count.”

Marina sent her a small, coy smile. “You think I won’t like it?”

“No!” Pearl cried, suddenly unsure. “Just that— Look, we’re both exhausted. Our risk assessment is _shit_.”

Marina frowned. “You’re worried _you_ won’t like it.”

“What? No! I— I already _know_ I’m gonna _love_ it but—”

“Pearlie...” Marina reached forward and put a hand on Pearl’s cheek. It was a tender gesture, but Pearl felt it like she was sideswiped, like that hand created a thunderstorm out of her body and it cracked a thunderclap right against her lungs. Her whole body shook with it, and she was sure that Marina could feel her quaking.

“I’m messing with you,” Marina said, and her thumb moved in a gentle up and down movement. It drove Pearl crazy.

“Oh.”

“What’s with you? Usually you’re so confident. I’ve seen you with other girls.”

Pearl grabbed Marina’s hand and pulled it away because she couldn’t take it; she couldn’t _think_ with it there. “You’re not just any girl,” she said, and suddenly her chest was full. She swallowed thickly and realized just how bad she had it, and how tired she was, if she was getting this emotional this quickly.

Marina smiled at her then, a fond, gentle thing. “Let’s just try it, okay? I promise that if it turns out bad, we’ll just forget it.”

Pearl took in a deep breath and forced herself to focus. She looked down at Marina’s palm, at the lines, at the rough calluses, and released it.

When she looked up again, she gave her biggest, most confident grin. “Hell yeah. Let’s try it! If we both want it, then what’s there to lose?”

Marina smiled at her and nodded once, a finite thing, before leaning slightly toward her, clearly unsure. Pearl placed her arms around Marina’s neck and tugged her forward gently, so that they were close enough that she could see the pores of Marina’s face and Marina laughed as she went, as she grabbed Pearl’s face between her palms and continued the motion to press their lips together.

It started small. It started gentle. It started like the fulfillment of an expectation, like a small, slow motion explosion. Their lips touched and Pearl’s body disappeared. Marina’s hands tightened and Pearl’s consciousness narrowed to just her face. Pearl let out a small gasp and Marina smiled into the kiss.

Somehow, Marina ended up on her back. One second, they were sitting up, testing things, then Marina smiled, and her teeth grazed Pearl’s lip and that was it. Pearl pressed and Marina fell back, laughing. Her arms, still extended, landed around Pearl’s neck and Pearl felt her fingers dig into the sensitive spot just under her head, just under her hairline. She let out a small sound that just made Marina smile again.

Things went sloppy after that. With their exhaustion came slow, sluggish movements, and, soon enough, before Pearl could get up enough courage to bring her tongue to the party, she could feel Marina relaxing into the couch, relaxing into the push and pull of their lips. Pearl made the quick, executive decision to keep it calm, to not let her excitement and shock at this whole situation get the better of her—even though she’d been daydreaming about this for _months_ —

They kissed slowly, languid, but sloppily, drawing on each other’s breath like a pair of swimmers. It was all teeth and lips, but Pearl felt Marina’s hand move down her back, igniting every nerve as it slid down, and then over her side, where it landed on her hip. Marina’s fingers were careful as they dipped under her hoodie there but didn’t move past the first couple inches, just looking for skin more than anything. It made Pearl grin when she realized. A small, innocent gesture, probably because Marina missed touch probably as much as Pearl herself.

Marina was only ever touched by Pearl when they hugged or joked around, Pearl realized as Marina’s other hand followed its twin on the other side. Suddenly, Pearl had two hands splayed against her back, against her side, and it sent shivers through her core. Marina laughed when she felt them, and Pearl pressed in again, trying to swallow that laughter for herself because it was so beautiful.

Pearl kept her hands on either side of Marina’s head because she had to hold herself up, but she desperately wanted to return the favor, to feel the coiled muscles of Marina’s abs, and she told herself that if this panned out, if this didn’t blow up in two minutes, she would find a way to get her hands there eventually, if only to feel, for a second, to see what Marina’s training did to her, to try to understand her a little better.

Eventually, they had to pull apart to breathe for real, not just their little catch breaths between kisses, and Pearl angled herself so that her forehead was against Marina’s. Marina looked up at her with bright, beautiful eyes and she looked exactly like how Pearl felt—well-kissed, ascended, effervescent.

“That was...” Marina began.

“ _Amazing_ ,” Pearl finished. Then, she bit her lip and smiled. “For me, at least,” she added, not to seem too presumptuous.

Marina laughed and pulled her hands free, leaving Pearl incredibly cold. “I agree,” she added, and then shocked Pearl through to her guts because she blinked hard and tears loosened themselves from her eyes.

“ _Marina?_ ” Pearl scrambled off, terrified. Did she do something wrong? Did she hurt her? Was this a terrible thing to do after all?

“No! This is good!” Marina cried and sat up so she could grab Pearl’s hand. She pushed herself up with her arms and lunged forward, wrapping her long fingers completely around Pearl’s wrist to keep her from reeling away any further. “I just... I never imagined it’d be _like that_ —” She scrubbed at her face with her other hand.

Pearl let out a shaky, relaxing breath. “ _Oh..._ Mar... I mean, yeah. I’m the same. I’m not gonna lie. I thought about kissing you a _lot_ and I never imagined that it’d be _that_ — It was better than _everything..._ ”

Marina dropped a small laugh, right out of her chest. “Yeah... I— I imagined it would be something like that... Of course, I don’t have anything to compare it to, but _wow_ it was good.”

That struck Pearl right between the eyes. “Wait... You don’t have anything to compare— Marina...” She felt her brow furrow. “Was that... Was that your first kiss?”

Marina looked down, and suddenly Pearl could see the effects of the day laying on her, dragging her down as her confidence drained away. Immediately, Pearl recognized all her teasing and joking for what it was—overcompensation, just like Pearl’s own, because she was so exhausted. They were both putting on acts, trying to act like they were in control of this situation, when in reality it was spiraling between them.

“Like... _ever_?” Pearl asked, just to clarify. She crashed right back into her body, the bubbly airiness of the kiss evaporating as the reality of this slammed into her.

Marina shrugged and reached up to play with one of her tentacles, a clear sign that she was uncomfortable. “I, uh... I mean... There was never anyone else I wanted to kiss...”

Just as quickly as she landed in her body, Pearl was catapulted back out again because that— That was... That was _shocking_ and _exciting_ and _terrifying_.

“Did I... Did I at least do a good job?” Pearl asked, trying to keep the atmosphere light. She didn’t want to scare Marina, because what a _hell_ of a first kiss: exhausted, wrung out from the day, _at work_ , on this old couch with her best friend and partner, after they stayed up staring at each other from across the studio. They were both sweaty and shattered but that was what enabled all this. Their inhibitions went with their bright eyes, replaced with a daring, exhausted spirit that said _why not_.

“You did _great_ ,” Marina asserted, and placed her hand on Pearl’s face again. “I... It was... I knew it would change my life but you... You _really_... Amazing. Just—” Marina looked down and laughed at herself. “Sorry if I’m not making sense. I’m tired.”

That was the understatement of the year. Pearl reached up and pulled Marina’s hand away again in a mirror of earlier, before the kiss, before everything changed. The world didn’t seem all that different, all told, but Pearl _felt_ different, felt like she would never be able to go back, even if they wanted to, because now there was a part of her that would have this. It would live in her somewhere, the fact that she _kissed_ the _hell_ out of Marina and Marina _liked_ it—

She was Marina’s first kiss, and that was a lot to take in, but, for now, she was going to live in the moment as well as she could, just the two of them and this perfect little thing.

“Let’s go to sleep,” Pearl said, and dropped a small kiss on Marina’s rough palm. She stood carefully and squeezed Marina’s fingers between hers. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

As she stepped toward the door, Marina watched her go. It felt terrible, to kiss and run like this, but they needed their space after that. She didn’t want to overstep any more boundaries tonight, which meant trekking across the hall and sleeping on her own couch. They could talk about this tomorrow... Between work and the concert, or even after the concert, or between recordings or _something_. They would _have_ to talk about it, no matter how busy they were.

As she opened the door, Marina called out to her: “Pearlie... I... I don’t regret it. Please don’t think too hard. Get some sleep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Found this hiding in my drafts. There's three chapters total, so I'll be updating the next two Saturdays until it's all posted! :D
> 
> Next update will be on Saturday, August 25!
> 
> Comments and kudos are cherished! <3


	2. In the Dark

Predictably, Pearl spent way too long thinking. She laid on the couch, staring up at the dark ceiling, going over everything, wracking her brain, analyzing her every move, trying to _ensure_ that she didn’t fuck anything up.

It wasn’t that she regretted anything. In fact, if she had the option, she would do it all again, but she’d ask Marina if she’d been kissed at any point prior to today before doing it. Because, the truth was, she wasn’t sure how she hadn’t noticed until now. They knew _everything_ about each other, but romance and past relationships weren’t things that came up often. Mostly, Pearl had flings with random girls that she never introduced to Marina because... Well, she’d caught feelings a while ago, hadn’t she? And she hadn’t wanted to risk anything with Marina, so she hid it all. And, she kinda figured Marina was the same way. She legitimately had no idea how many people Marina dated—or even if Marina preferred any gender over the others.

Well, she had her answer now. Marina dated no one. Marina had no preference, as far as Pearl knew, because she hadn’t bothered. She only had eyes for _Pearl_ , only wanted to kiss _Pearl_ , had spent over three and a half years here on the surface and hadn’t touched anyone in that time.

Granted, the first two years were spent grinding, first in Marina’s learning of Inkling, then in creating the band, then in recording songs, landing an agent, landing the news gig, and Marina was sixteen/seventeen and new in town; she clearly didn’t want to take any chances. Pearl didn’t really date anyone in that time either because they were so busy. But, once they made it big, Pearl figured that Marina did the same thing she did: met a few people, had a few sparks, moved through a few flings.

It wasn’t until they were nine months into the news gig that Pearl realized she had feelings for Marina, and by then she’d been caught in a cycle of various girls that she kissed and didn’t do much else with. It made sense to her when she realized, when she watched Marina move gracefully around the studio, why she hadn’t wanted to go any farther—because what she really wanted was right there in front of her.

But Marina hadn’t gone that far. She decided on Pearl, right after that whole thing with Agent Eight, close enough to Pearl’s own epiphany that they might as well have been at the same time. They’d been watching and waiting... For what?

For courage? For a sign? For one of them to finally break? For a night like tonight, when inhibitions went out the window because they were so tired they felt like they didn’t have anything to lose?

Thinking back on it, Pearl didn’t so much wait as just nestle into a new normal—a normal where she felt an intense and unstoppable fondness for Marina, where she wanted to be around Marina because she made everything brighter, where she made it her mission to make sure Marina got everything she ever wanted, where she listened intently, remembered as much as she could, and tried harder. She shifted right into this new normal without really thinking about it, and she decided that that was enough for her, especially since Marina, for her part, seemed to react to it and to find her own place in it.

Pearl was pretty content with how things were going—for a while anyway. Even after she realized that Marina probably, maybe, hopefully felt something in return, she didn’t feel too much of an urgency to act on it. Their lives were busy, after all.

Even after saving the world, even after Marina bombed a statue with ink with the help of a sixteen year old, even after Pearl used her voice to repel a deadly, world-ending laser, even after Marina tackled her to the ground and they stared at each other, their lips inches apart, Pearl didn’t allow the urgency or the beat of her chest, constantly at speed when Marina did anything cute, drive her into doing something rash.

But, she also yearned. She lingered. She imagined. She dreamed. She pictured what it would be like, if she ever gathered all of her courage up and expended it, if she ever found the power to ask, to get permission, to do it. She imagined what it would be like to kiss Marina—in the rain, in her apartment, in Marina’s apartment, in the grocery store, in the car, leaning against Marina’s motorcycle, in the studio, in her dressing room, at a concert, during a broadcast, at a photoshoot, on the red carpet... She imagined it all, catalogued these little fantasies in her inner self and never let it show outwardly.

Her life became a sort of dichotomy. When she wasn’t dreaming about kissing Marina, about sweeping her off her feet, or begging her to date her, Pearl was nestled in that new normal, where this was just her life and it was no big deal. While she was caught up in daydreams, it felt desperate, like she needed to do something _immediately_ , but as soon as she came back and she looked up at Marina, saw her smile, worked with her on a song or on a script, things cooled down and she dealt with it.

Marina, meanwhile, showed only small signs, but since Pearl was so preoccupied with her, she noticed it all, and she took heart. But, she still didn’t act on it... Because?

It hit her then, as she stared up at her ceiling. She sat up.

She didn’t act on it because she didn’t want to complicate things for _Marina._

It was that simple. She knew that initiating this would change things, would create this irrefutable bond between them, would change their relationship, would create a mess if things went south, and she didn’t want to do that to Marina. Not when Marina was finally gaining stability in her new life, not when Marina was comfortable in her daily routine, in Inkopolis, with Pearl by her side. Now that she knew what Marina had been through, she wanted, desperately, for Marina to feel safe, to feel secure, to feel accomplished and successful and unstoppable. Who was she to mess that up with all these messy feelings?

And Marina... Well, she returned _something,_ but she never acted on it either. So, Pearl just left it.

Until tonight.

Pearl looked down at her lap, suddenly wired despite the late hour and how hard her head was pounding in its desperation for sleep. Something changed tonight. She gave in to the daydreamer. And, somehow, it worked out with little to no casualty.

(Except, y’know, for the whole _first kiss_ thing. If Pearl had _known_ — Well, she wouldn’t have gone that far, would have kept it completely chaste and soft, wouldn’t have allowed it to go on for that long or get that deep or allowed Marina’s hands to go under her shirt. But then, Marina was complicit too. She was flirty and she pulled Pearl down and her hands’ movement was up to her and her alone. It was consensual and they both had a hand in it. But _still_ —)

“Pearlie?” Marina’s voice called from the hallway. There was a small knock on the door. Pearl jerked up. The door creaked open.

“Oh, good, you’re not asleep,” Marina said as she stepped in. The light was still on in the hall, and it silhouetted Marina’s form, casting her into shadow. Pearl couldn’t see her face. “I, uh... I don’t want to be alone.”

Pearl tried not to read too far into that, even as her alarm bells screamed at her that this was her fault. If it was, she thought in a small rebuttal, then Marina wouldn’t be coming to her for comfort then, would she?

“Me either,” Pearl answered, and she meant it. She probably wouldn’t be able to sleep if she stayed in here alone, in this chamber of thoughts and worries. At least with Marina here, she’d have to pretend to sleep, which was better than getting up and pacing.

Marina stepped further in and let the door close behind her. They were plunged into near complete darkness, the only light the slice from under the door. Pearl heard Marina move closer still.

“Can I...?” Marina stepped close and brushed her hand against Pearl’s shoulder, trying to locate her. Her fingers clasped, hard, on Pearl’s arm. “Are you okay to share the couch? I know you wanted space, but... I promise that we’ll just sleep.”

Pearl placed a hand on top of Marina’s. “I wasn’t worried about that, don’t worry. And, sure. Of fucking course we can share the couch.”

Marina leaned down and placed a small kiss on Pearl’s forehead. It was a familiar gesture, something that she did all the time, especially when Pearl did something that made her proud, so Pearl didn’t read into it. Instead, she looked up, even though Marina couldn’t see her, and squinted into the darkness, trying to make out Marina’s face.

“Quit squinting at me,” Marina said, chuckling—so maybe she _could_ see her. It wouldn’t surprise Pearl if her night vision was better. “We need to sleep.”

Pearl scooted as far as she could against the armrest and Marina climbed on the other end of the small couch. Her long legs bumped into Pearl’s, but otherwise they were feet apart, with only the skin of their legs brushing. Pearl leaned into the back of the couch, trying to be comfortable while still upright, and she heard Marina do the same.

This reminded her of something else—Marina’s wandering hands, how alone Marina had been, with Pearl as her only physical outlet for any sort of touch, platonic or otherwise. If she really hadn’t dated anyone, then the only person who’d had access to her, who she’d given access, was Pearl, Pearl with her short limbs and her overconfident attitude. Pearl touched her about as often as most friends did—every once in a while they would watch a movie curled up on Pearl’s huge couch and fall asleep next to one another, leaning their heads together, or Pearl would aimlessly play with Marina’s hair in the car on the way to concerts, or they would help each other with makeup, clutching chins between fingers and brushing the backs of fingers against cheeks.

That was it. And, clearly, Marina was desperate for it. Her legs easily trapped Pearl’s, pressing themselves flush against hers, but Pearl knew that it was innocent, the result of years of nothing. Ever since they evolved to live above water and developed communities, inklings were a touchy-feely species who craved platonic, physical touch, and clearly octolings were the same way, if Marina’s actions tonight were any indication. Pearl knew that it wasn’t anything more—Marina was too careful, too thoughtful, and her hands during the kiss never moved once they got that skin-on-skin contact. Now, with her legs, she was relaxed, already dozing from the sound of her slowed breathing.

Sometimes, it was that easy. Sometimes, you just needed someone to hug you, someone to press their hands against your back. Sometimes, you just needed to _feel_ someone else.

That thought, combined with all the adrenaline, all the boldness of the last hour, made Pearl brave, and, before she knew it, she was on her hands and knees, crawling carefully over Marina’s knees, over her thighs. Marina, who wasn’t quite all the way asleep, jostled back into wakefulness and went slightly rigged, which was to be expected. Pearl was moving very suddenly and without warning, right up to her chest, when they agreed to sleep. But Pearl was already moving, so she wasn’t going to stop now.

Pearl couldn’t see her, so she moved by touch alone, patting Marina’s leg and then her stomach to orientate herself, until her hand landed on her shoulder. She grabbed it and carefully lowered herself so that her head was resting on Marina’s chest.

Pearl had a theory—Marina herself didn’t know how touch starved she was. Pearl grew up like this, with barely any skin-on-skin contact because her father was distant and her friends were rowdy and rich, so she knew the signs, knew how to recognize them from a life spent wanting. Plus, she would be lying if she said she didn’t want a good cuddle right now too.

“Pearl?” Marina’s voice was thick with sleep.

Pearl didn’t say anything, just wrapped her arms around Marina’s middle. She could hear Marina’s hearts, right against her ear, along with her breathing, and she carefully fished the tips of her fingers under the hem of Marina’s shirt so she could press them against her skin.

Marina tensed, and that was precisely the moment that Pearl remembered that Marina could probably snap her in half with a twist of her arms if she wanted. She froze, waited for Marina to relax, prepared to jerk away if she crossed a boundary, but, eventually, slowly, Marina released, recognizing Pearl’s intentions as innocent.

Pearly carefully, so carefully, relaxed the rest of her body, placed as it was against Marina’s. Head on Marina’s chest, chest on Marina’s stomach, legs sprawled behind her, hands splayed against Marina’s back in the space created by the armrest.

It wouldn’t be comfortable for Marina for long, but Pearl felt her lean her head to the side, against the back of the couch. She let out a small, wracked breath, and Pearl felt her hands land on her back, on top of her hoodie. Marina’s legs moved, wrapping themselves around Pearl’s, and that was how they ended up knotted up like an old rope.

+++

When Pearl woke, they were in the same position. Marina’s outside arm fell and was hanging off the side of the couch and her mouth was open, but otherwise things hadn’t shifted at all. Pearl’s arms were sore from being squashed under Marina’s body all night and she was sweaty, but otherwise she was pretty comfortable—or as comfortable as one could get while sleeping on the couch. In Pearl’s opinion, couch sleeps were some of the worst of all sleeps, but she’d had worse and with _way_ worse company, so it wasn’t all bad.

Her phone was vibrating on the floor, the regular alarm that got her up to come in to the studio, and she groaned and reached over the side of the couch to shut it off. This woke Marina, who blinked open her big eyes and stared blearily down at Pearl like she didn’t recognize her.

“Morning,” Pearl grunted, and pushed herself up so she could clamber off Marina. With the light of day shining on them now, this position wasn’t glamorous, cute, or enjoyable anymore—it was stiff, stuffy, and spent. It served its purpose, but now they had to get back to normal. “How’d you sleep?”

Marina reached up and rubbed her eyes with both fists. It looked painful. “I passed out. Thanks, by the way. You... You helped a lot.”

Pearl grinned at her, feeling gratified. “Happy to help.”

The events of the night feel unreal now, like Pearl dreamed them in hyper-detail. The only reason she knew she didn’t was because she woke up like this, still on top of Marina’s body, still in the dressing room, still in her clothes from yesterday. She really did that... _They_ really did that... They... They kissed and they... They slept together on the couch and...

When yesterday began, all Pearl wanted was some alone time with Marina because she missed her. She never imagined that they’d end up like _this_...

But, she’s so glad that she took the risk. Even if they decide to not go any further, she’ll always have this strange, dreamlike night where her inhibitions took a backseat and she let her instincts take over. And where Marina did the same. They took a chance and they met each other, and they created this beautiful night that Pearl will never forget.

“I should go get ready,” Marina said as she pushed herself up. She stretched her arms above her head, causing her shirt to hitch up, exposing her pierced navel.

“You don’t have to,” Pearl heard herself say. She didn’t want this to end, not yet, and she knew that as soon as Marina left, they would go back to normal until they could talk this out fully. And who knew when that would be? It might be _months_ until they found time to be alone for an extended period of time. They had stuff every weekend for the next six months, which meant that the weekdays were to be spent on preparation and the show and their next single and everything else. Really, the last time they’d spent time together was the whole Agent Eight thing, and that was because they played sick for over a week and holed themselves up in Pearl’s apartment.

And maybe that was what did it, Pearl thought to herself. Maybe that was what made Marina realize. For Pearl, that week, while stressful, was what she needed to figure her feelings out. She was alone with Marina, they were sitting close, watching Eight as she completed station after station, giving advice when they could, and, when Eight was resting, they talked, and they spent time together. At night, Marina slept on Pearl’s couch with Pearl’s favorite blanket, and in the morning, Pearl made them bowls of her favorite sugary cereal.

She realized exactly what she was feeling, put the words to it, and she found peace with the fact that nothing would probably come of it. After all, Marina didn’t seem interested in that capacity. Sure, she was Pearl’s best friend and she was attentive and watchful, but that was also because Pearl was her guide in this world, her tether to inkling society. She loved Pearl as much as she was able, and it was platonic, and Pearl accepted it.

Then, they saved the world and Marina tackled her.

After the hug ended and Marina began to pull away, she paused, looking down at Pearl from above like the sun, and Pearl saw her eyes track over her face, as if she was memorizing her features. Then, her gaze stopped on Pearl’s lips.

Pearl saw her bite the inside of her cheek.

It was a small moment, but it reignited the hope that had taken roost in Pearl’s chest. Marina smiled at her and clambered off, apologizing for her over-eagerness, offered Pearl a hand, and pulled her up.

Pearl wanted to kiss her so bad in that moment, both because they just _saved the world,_ and wouldn’t _that_ be romantic? But also because Marina was _interested too_ — Pearl didn’t imagine that, and she also didn’t imagine the way Marina held her hand for way too long after she pulled Pearl to her feet, or the way she stood close as they met Eight and Three and Cuttlefish properly or the way when, that night, as she was packing up her stuff to go back to her apartment, Marina lingered, folded and refolded her pants at least six times each, pretending that she couldn’t configure them back into her bag, or how she hugged Pearl for a touch too long as she left.

Now though, they did it. They did it and they needed to talk about it. Marina sighed and turned to look at her, still on the couch. Pearl felt very small as she looked up at her.

“Pearlie... I— Last night—”

“We need to talk,” Pearl filled in.

“Yeah,” Marina breathed, thankful. “Yeah, we do. But...”

Marina cast a look at the door, a clear sign that she wasn’t ready. Fair, Pearl could give her time.

“Do you wanna go to the gym down the block? We can probably talk our way into the showers.” Pearl asked, and Marina cast her a thankful look for the subject change.

“ _Yes_. I feel like I haven’t showered in two days. Let’s go.”

+++

They showered in adjacent stalls. They couldn’t see each other, but Pearl could hear Marina, hear her hum the Calamari Inkantation under her breath. On their way here, they ducked into a small store and bought travel sized bottles of soap, toothbrushes, and small tubes of toothpaste, so Pearl also heard her snap the soap open and then closed, heard her drop it and then curse. Heard her pick up her humming again, this time Into the Light.

Pearl joined in, harmonizing, and the acoustics of the room made their voices spin. It was a good warm-up for the busy day ahead, and it also settled Pearl’s frazzled, worried nerves. The thing was, she didn’t regret last night, but she was antsy to talk about it now, especially because Marina seemed so... off about it. It wasn’t that she seemed upset, just distanced, like she had some great thoughts swirling in that big head of hers that she needed to sort through. But that didn’t help Pearl’s over-excited stomach in its tumbling and twisting.

Pearl could respect that, and while she knew that Marina often needed time to process things, to put everything in its place, and that she didn’t rely on emotion alone to help her with her decisions, it was a little alien to Pearl. Pearl was an inkling of emotion, of rash, instinctual decisions, so watching Marina struggle with something and not just follow her gut stumped her. She didn’t know how to help—and, in this case, she _couldn’t_ help because _she_ was the thing that needed to be processed.

She tried not to let it bother her, even as she turned her face up to the spray and listened to Marina sing her part, switching from a hum to full voice. Marina needed time, but Pearl needed to talk about it. It made her itch how much she needed to talk about it.

Eventually, they stepped out the shower—Pearl first because she always took fast showers, dressed back in her clothes from yesterday, and then Marina ten minutes later. While she waited, Pearl sat on a bench and fiddled with her phone, still singing along as Marina switched songs. Eventually, Marina emerged, dressed, hair pulled up into a tall bun that showed off the expanse of her neck and her ears. It made Pearl’s mouth go dry to see.

When they got back to the studio, they went their separate ways. As she shimmied into her tights, Pearl worked herself through her own memories, her own feelings, everything that happened. The facts were that last night was a mess, but it was a pretty fantastic one. But, she reminded herself as she shoved her arms through the sleeves of her dress and pulled up the zipper, that was Marina’s first kiss. It made sense that she would need time and space to process.

She toed into her boots and stooped down to drag up the zippers on those too. Her crown was waiting at the makeup mirror, sitting on its little pillow, along with her gloves and makeup bag, and she scooped all three items up and marched to the door.

Marina would need time and space to process, but Pearl needed to make sure that everything was okay. They didn’t need to talk about the future or what all this meant, but she needed to square this away, to make sure that Marina was _all right_ , at the very least. This wasn’t something she could just let sit, not when she could have accidentally hurt her best friend.

She made it all the way to Marina’s dressing room door before she lost all her momentum. Marina’s name was displayed proudly on the door, pressed in relief into her small, green, round symbol. Pearl stared at it, brow furrowing, remembering the day that Marina sketched it out, alongside Pearl’s, and Pearl felt intense, unmeasurable pride to see them—all of their success, encompassed in those small icons. Now, it was staring her down, asking her what she was doing, if she was going to knock, if she was going to be responsible and check on Marina, if she was going to stop being such a coward.

Pearl scowled at it and raised her fist to knock. She didn’t get that far though, because the door opened, and she was presented with Marina, in her costume, cradling her gloves and makeup bag, headphones hanging around her neck.

“Oh!” Marina said. “I, uh, I didn’t know which room we were meeting in today so I...”

Pearl, struck dumb for a second, could only stare up at her, blinking slowly. She’d looked at Marina so many times before this, but every time she saw her it was like she was seeing her the first time all over again, especially now that they...

Pearl shifted uncomfortably, dragging the collar of her dress down a little.

“Pearlie? You okay? Do I have something on my face?”

Pearl shook her head, both to reassure Marina and to shake herself out of her stupor. “No, I just... Y’know.” She sighed. “You’re pretty. Look,” she plowed forward, secretly delighting the way Marina’s cheeks turned a slight teal with her blush. “I’m already here, so let’s just do it in yours, okay?”

Marina stepped back easily, letting Pearl in. Pearl tread over the threshold as carefully as she could, respecting the space that, not eight hours ago, was the site of their kiss. Of course, she’d been in here plenty times, but now it had an energy to it, an electric storm that ignited Pearl’s nerves.

Marina led the way to her makeup mirror, where she dropped all of her things with a clatter. Pearl stepped up next to her and tossed her things down too; she tried to make herself seem busy by digging around for her primer.

This was a common ritual. Because they didn’t have much time alone, they tried to do their makeup together, leaning into one of the mirrors, Marina helping Pearl with her blush because she tended to over-apply, Pearl watching Marina wield the eyebrow pencil like a skilled octobrush main. Really, Pearl didn’t do much makeup, just enough to keep herself from looking like a splotchy ghost under all those lights, and Marina didn’t need much because her skin tone was so even, but it was something they did together—a small moment that they carved out for one another.

Pearl didn’t want to ruin it, but she had to say _something_. “Reena...” She sighed and looked down at her crown, the third one she’d gone through in the past year and a half. “I know you need time but I gotta ask... Are you _okay?_ I had _no idea_ that was your first kiss and I’m _so sorry_ if I went too far... I just... I wanna make sure that—”

Marina dropped her foundation back into the bag. “I’m fine,” she said shortly. “Trust me, you did _nothing_ wrong, okay? You were... You were perfect.” She reached over and carefully moved Pearl’s hands aside so she could draw her blush from her bag. She popped it open and stared down at the light pinks. “You don’t need to apologize.”

Pearl blew out a small breath and held out a brush. Marina took it from her easily. “Are you absolutely sure?” Pearl asked, and then had to suck in her cheeks as Marina began to wave the brush over her skin.

“Yes,” Marina answered, focused on Pearl’s pale face. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. You were respectful and patient and I know you wanted it too, so we were _both_ into it.”

“Okay,” Pearl said. Marina set the brush on the table and ran the side of her pinky along Pearl’s cheek. “Okay,” Pearl repeated. “But if you realize later that I—”

“I won’t.” Marina leaned forward and dropped a small kiss on the top of her head.

“But if you _do_ ,” Pearl asserted, trying not to react to the kiss, “you can tell me. I’ll make it right.”

Marina smiled at her, and Pearl swore that she looked sad. She felt a jolt of hard, cold fear at the sight. “I know you will,” Marina mumbled, and turned back to her own makeup. She let out a small sigh. “I promise that we’ll talk later, okay? But... I’m okay. You’re okay. You _are_ okay, right?”

“Of fucking course I am!” Pearl said in a rush. “It was my idea, remember? I’m _fine_! I’m more than fine! I’m over the moon because I like you! A lot! I like you a lot, Marina...”

That made Marina smile into the mirror. “I like you too.”

Pearl grinned in return, because that was exactly what she needed to hear. “Good! We’ll— We’ll work this out, okay Marina? Not now, but soon. I—” She reached out and grabbed Marina’s arm, to feel her. “I want this to work out. We... We could be _incredible_.”

“Yeah,” Marina answered, and cast that same sad glance down at her arm. It sent another jolt of unease through Pearl’s whole body. Marina eased her hand free and laced their fingers together. “Now, let me finish my makeup.” She squeezed Pearl’s hand once.

Pearl squeezed back and never wanted to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big apologies to any makeup wearers out there. I don't wear makeup so all my knowledge comes from random YouTube videos I've seen over the years...
> 
> HUGE THANKS to everyone who left comments on last chapter! Like... wow! I didn't expect such an enthusiastic response to this small story! I'm glad you're all enjoying so much! 
> 
> Comments and kudos are cherished! <3


	3. In the Dressing Room

The day was busy, just like she expected. They only had brief breaks between live sessions, wherein they couldn’t really talk because there were kids at the window, peering at them, taking pictures with their phones. They talked about business only, like an email they got from their agent, or the new soundboard Marina needed to special order, or the lyrics for their next song.

Mostly, they sat across from one another and existed in their own worlds. Marina muttered to herself in Octarian as she went over lighting setups for their next concert, and Pearl pretended to answer emails on her phone. Really, she was too distracted by Marina, by the physicality of her presence, slumped as she was over the table, the shape of her stomach, scrunched up as she leaned into her elbow, the curve of her eyes. She was so close, Pearl could see the clear, rounded edges of her contacts.

Every now and then, Marina would peek at her and Pearl would pretend not to notice. These glances weren’t like the regular ones they usually swapped though. They weren’t the friendly, familiar glances of two people who knew each other well; these were sad, long looks, critical in their intensity, as if she was trying to figure something out. It scared Pearl to see, because she swore that she could see _regret_ in Marina’s eyes. Regret and sadness—as if she didn’t know what to say, how to tell Pearl what she was thinking.

As if she was thinking the worst, as if she was deciding that she didn’t like the kiss, that she didn’t like Pearl, that they were better off as friends, as two halves of a band, kept apart at arm’s length.

By hour two of this, it made Pearl antsy and frustrated to see, because she couldn’t do anything. She couldn’t say anything, not with how public they were, not with how she promised to let Marina think. But she couldn’t _not_ do anything either. She was itchy again, but she couldn’t scratch.

She ended up pacing around between live recordings. “Too much energy,” she told Marina when she asked if Pearl was okay, which wasn’t a lie. It was just that she was full of unsure, abject horror, because she could see now, the way Marina was avoiding talking, was avoiding meeting her eyes, just kept looking at her when she thought Pearl wouldn’t notice.

She regretted it. She regretted the kiss. And she didn’t know how to tell Pearl that.

During lunch, Pearl took her break in the Square. She got something greasy and filling from Crusty Sean and ate it in the alley behind the studio, leaning against a wall. The weird guy that Murch was always reporting to eyed her through the window of the cafe back there, and she glared at him. He glared back and Pearl decided that she liked him.

It was easy to glare at people, to put up walls, and Pearl was an expert at it. What was hard was letting people in, trusting them, opening up, letting them see her softest, most vulnerable side. And that’s exactly what she did with Marina. Marina’s seen all of her, every single weak point, and last night was the culmination of it. Marina held Pearl between her hands and let Pearl kiss her silly and it was _good_. But now? Now Pearl felt like she’d been butterflied, gutted, and salted.

Marina was her everything, her whole world, and every good thing that’d happened to Pearl could be attributed to her presence. Marina turned her into who she was today, changed her from the punk brat to the pink princess, and Off the Hook wouldn’t be what it was without Marina. Hell, the city wouldn’t exist without Marina, considering all they went through with Agent Eight...

Pearl couldn’t afford to lose her, but she wasn’t sure she would survive the pain of what was to come. Marina would let her down gently, but that would destroy her further, because that kindness would be indicative of just how much she cared. She loved Pearl—just not in the way Pearl wanted.

Pearl licked her fingers and crumbled up the small cardboard boat that her food came in. Well, she would just have to take this destruction like she took everything else. She would harden, and she would recover.

She just had to hope that her relationship with Marina would survive.

+++

That plan didn’t last long. Pearl didn’t get the chance to harden, because Marina immediately complicated things.

Back in the studio, Marina marched right up to her as soon as she came through the door. “Come with me.” Marina grabbed her arm and pulled her out, into the stairwell, up a few steps, up to the landing between floors, and released her.

“I know you’ve been watching me,” she said. Her voice wasn’t accusatory, just neutral, like she was stating a fact. “I’m sorry if I’m scaring you.”

“Scaring me? Psh, no,” Pearl lied.

Marina rolled her eyes. “Pearl, I know you. You never eat lunch alone unless something’s bothering you. And you’ve been wearing a hole in the floor with all your pacing.”

“I _told_ you. I have too much energy. I slept really well and—”

“Bullshit,” Marina said, and the language shocked Pearl into silence. “You’re worried. I’m— I’m sorry. You’re not— You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Now it was Pearl’s turn to roll her eyes. “Please. I’m the one who started this whole mess.”

Marina chuckled. “Okay, it’s a mess, yes, but it takes two to tango.”

“Yeah well, now you’re not sure how to tell me you’re not interested, so I’m just gonna make it easy on you. I’m a big girl. I can handle it. We can just go back to being friends and—”

“ _What_?” Marina grabbed Pearl’s arms, fingers tight. “I’m _not_ — That’s _not_ what’s going on.”

“Please, I’ve seen how you’ve been looking at me. You _regret_ it.”

“Pearl... Were you even listening to me last night? I’ve been _waiting_ to kiss you. Only you.”

Okay, so she did say that, but that didn’t explain the heavy glances, or the aura of foreboding that’d taken up residence in the studio all morning. “Then _why_ have you been lookin’ at me like you’re gonna break my heart? I know grief when I see it.”

Marina sighed. “Pearlie...”

She pulled Pearl close and pressed their lips together. Pearl, shocked, didn’t have time to react, so she just stood there, wide-eyed, like a statue, and allowed herself to be kissed, for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. Eventually, she managed to get control of herself and her own hands came up and slid around Marina’s hips, as if guided by instinct, and Marina seemed pleased by that. She hummed into the simple kiss, and Pearl felt that vibrate through her whole body, all the way to the soles of her feet.

When Marina pulled away, she left Pearl dazed. What the _fuck_ was going on?

“I’m _not_ going to break your heart,” Marina said, still holding tight to Pearl’s biceps. “You didn’t do anything wrong and I— It’s not _your fault_. It’s not you.”

Pearl squinted up at her, trying to read past her pleading expression. “So you don’t regret it?”

Marina shook her head. “ _No_.” Her voice was breathless, as if she couldn’t get that word out fast enough.

“Then what the _hell_ —”

“I— I have to work through something.”

Pearl sighed, suddenly exhausted. “But you just kissed me again... I’m so confused.”

Marina laughed and finally released her. “How else could I show you that I don’t regret it? Besides, I like kissing you... I hope that was okay.”

Pearl smiled up at her. She was a mess of confused emotions, but she couldn’t help it. Marina liked kissing her... “Of course it was okay.”

Marina touched her softly, right on her jaw. “Good. We should probably get back, but you can chill, okay? You’re okay...”

“Okay,” Pearl answered, because what else could she say? Marina had just put it all out there and kissed her again, just to prove that she was perfectly okay with it. All of Pearl’s worries were solved—on the surface at least.

As they tromped back down the stairs, Pearl could still feel where Marina’s hands were on her arms, and she looked up at her. Marina sent her a small, exhausted smile, and Pearl realized that that sorrow that she’d seen on Marina’s face wasn’t because she was going to break Pearl’s heart.

She was afraid of something—of something that Pearl could do to her. Of how Pearl could break _her_ heart?

It made her feel cold, even as her body was slowly coming down from the heat of the kiss.

+++

The day sped by after that. After lunch, they recorded all of the weekend’s announcements in rapid succession, between live broadcasts of the current rotations, and stood close together between shoots, checking over the revised tour schedule that their agent sent them. Their next tour wasn’t for a few months, but the schedule had to be pinned down now. They looked at it on Marina’s phone, Marina hunched over, and Pearl pinched the email in and out to see the small text, and every time she looked up at her for feedback, Marina had this faraway look to her eyes.

For a while, it was like nothing happened and things were normal. They cracked jokes in front of the camera, picking on each other in good-natured fun, using the same lines that they always did, and when cut was called they went right back to the tour schedule. Pearl jotted down changes in her terrible handwriting, which made Marina grimace and write clarifications under it in her looping, precise script. It warmed Pearl through to see—their handwriting stacked on top of each other, so different but so familiar. For a second, she forgot all their troubles.

Marina had a meeting with the head of the shifty station crew, which Pearl sat through and tried to seem interested in. That ate up an hour. Then, they had a wardrobe fitting for the Frosty Fest, and Pearl stood on the pedestal and didn’t complain about the needles that poked her. Marina, meanwhile, on the couch, typing away at her laptop, looked up every now and then, squinting at Pearl at steady intervals. The long, regretful glances were back, except this time she seemed to be trying to hide them. Pearl could read her like a giant road sign though, so she knew exactly what was going on, even if she didn’t understand. She started to itch again and fidgeted enough that the seamstress tutted at her.

When it was Marina’s turn on the pedestal, Pearl flung herself onto the couch and let her head loll back, suddenly exhausted. All this emotional toil was taking a toll on her body, and she didn’t know how she was gonna get through a whole concert and the afterparty after this. What she really wanted was to go back to her place, climb into the bath, and disappear under a thick film of bubbles for a few hours. Then, maybe Marina would be ready to talk, and they could hash this out and put it all behind them.

“You okay?” Marina asked as she held her arms out. The seamstress poked at the fabric under her arm, checking the ribbing. Marina’s top had to be sculpted perfectly, and the sequins sparkled like a freshly polished disco ball.

“Tired,” Pearl said, and hoped that Marina would read between the lines. There were three other people in here, besides them, so it wasn’t like they could talk. She looked up to see Marina grimace at her.

“Take a short nap,” Marina returned. She let her arms fall as the seamstress stepped away, satisfied.

“Not that kind of tired.”

Marina sighed and accepted the silver gloves being held out to her. She tugged them on and then offered her hands so the head of wardrobe could check them. Satisfied, he turned and opened a small, plastic box. Inside, there was a new pair of silver and white headphones, along with a gold crown, which he offered to them.

Pearl easily slid the new crown on her head, checking its weight for balancing, and tipped her head from side to side as instructed so that they could see how it sat. Marina meanwhile avoided all this, just by virtue of headphones, and he seemed satisfied by the fit of both.

Everyone vacated the room after that so Marina could change. Usually, Pearl would’ve bounced too, but the idea of moving was too much. Instead, she pressed her hands over her eyes and leaned back so that her head was facing away. Marina didn’t say anything, and Pearl heard the sound of long, smooth, zipper pulls.

Usually, this would get her all hot and bothered, but, just now, it didn’t do anything. She was too worried because Marina was worried, and she didn’t know what to do about it. She knew that Marina didn’t intend on breaking her heart. In fact, she’d pretty much gotten confirmation that if they made it through this to the other side, it was going to be _together_ —like, _together_ together—but Marina clearly believed that Pearl had the capability to do something to her that she feared.

Was Marina afraid of commitment? That would be a shock, considering all they’d been through... Marina was like... the _last_ person Pearl expected to be afraid of committing to something like this, because they’d already taken big leaps like this before—starting a band, launching joint careers, tying their lives to each other; hell, even trusting Pearl enough to follow her into the city back at the beginning was a huge leap.

Maybe it wasn’t commitment then... Maybe it was something else, something worse. Maybe she was afraid of losing Pearl if this all went south, or she was terrified of Pearl running roughshod all over her feelings or getting tired of her after a few months—because she had a track record of that with other girls. It made Pearl sick to think about, because she would _never_ — Marina was too important to her. Hell, the idea of even being slightly mean to her in a non-joking way was so _wrong_ that she felt like she needed to pace.

How did she handle this? How did she tell Marina that she was in this for the long haul? She’d never felt like this about _anyone_... Usually, her crushes lasted a few weeks and then she was good, but _this_... This was different. This felt cosmic. This felt like an earthquake.

Marina felt like the future. Marina _was_ the future, as far as Pearl was concerned, because she didn’t plan on ever letting her go. If she had it her way, they’d keep making music for the rest of their lives, and they’d keep forging forward together, keep taking those leaps. If they added this—whatever this was... Well, that would just make it all the sweeter, wouldn’t it? Because Marina was Pearl’s everything, even more as she developed deeper feelings, and that wouldn’t change no matter which direction their relationship went.

“I’m not gonna leave you,” Pearl heard her own voice say. She shocked herself with it, because she didn’t intend to speak, but then it was out there, and she couldn’t take it back.

Marina didn’t reply. There wasn’t a single sound, not a single rustle of fabric.

“Reena... I mean it. You’re my best friend first. Nothing else will change that. If we decide to do this... I’m not gonna stop being your best friend. _Ever_.”

“I know.” Marina’s voice was incredibly close, and Pearl resisted the urge to remove her hands.

“Good... I— Good. You don’t have to worry. You’ll never lose me. I— I don’t think I would survive that.”

Marina grabbed her hands and pulled them down. She was back in her regular costume, but her hair was tied back again, her headphones missing, and she was sitting right next to her on the couch. “Me either... Pearlie... I’m sorry for worrying you. I... I have faith in you. And in us. I just—” She broke off to sniffle.

Pearl realized with a jolt that she was crying. “ _Reena_...”

Marina laughed to herself. “I’m sorry! I’m just... I feel _so bad!_ ”

That smashed into Pearl’s whole body. She went rigged and almost ripped her hands out of Marina’s grip, but Marina was faster. She clamped her fingers down.

“ _Not about the kiss_ ,” she clarified quickly, hissing it out so fast that Pearl almost didn’t catch it all. “I feel bad because...” She took a deep breath. “I _used_ you.”

Pearl, mouth opening, snapped her jaw closed, and bit down so hard on her own tongue that her ears started to ring. “Ow! Fuck! Wait... You... _What_? Marina...”

Marina looked down at their hands. Her thumb caressed Pearl’s wrist in a slow rhythm. “I didn’t tell you that it was my first kiss... I... I _tricked_ you and I— I don’t want you to think that I kissed you just because I wanted to get it over with or whatever. I—”

Pearl moved before she could stop herself. She surged forward and pressed her lips against Marina’s. Marina’s eyes widened and she let go of Pearl’s hands in her shock, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she parted her lips slightly, just enough for Pearl to catch her lip between her own, and she sucked on it just there, enough to make Marina relax.

When they parted, seconds later, Marina hit Pearl with a perplexed look.

“You didn’t trick me, you dope,” Pearl said, and looped her arms around Marina’s neck. “I wanted that kiss too. I asked you, remember?”

“But I didn’t tell you and you were _so shocked_ —”

Pearl shrugged. The truth was, she wasn’t _that_ bothered by it. Sure, she wished she’d known, but it wasn’t because she felt _tricked_ or _used_. “So? I mean, I _was_ a little upset you didn’t tell me, but that was because I woulda made it special if I’d known! It was so _sloppy_. Totally _not_ fuckin’ acceptable for a first kiss, especially if _I’m_ involved!”

That made Marina laugh, and Pearl was gratified to hear it. It helped her relax a little. “You’re not mad? That I didn’t tell you?” Marina asked.

“Me? Mad? _Psh_ , nah. After all, I got to kiss the most beautiful girl in the world.” Pearl let her arms fall, down to Marina’s sides, and she pulled her in to a tight hug.

“Pearlie!” Despite her protests, Marina allowed herself to be pulled in.

Pearl grinned and buried her face in Marina’s shoulder, happy that at least the problem wasn’t as major as she imagined. The relief in her body was so intense that she let out a loud, uncontrolled laugh. “Mar... Were you running yourself in circles about this _all day_? Is that why you were looking at me like that? You were scared I was gonna be mad at you?”

Marina rested her head on top of Pearl’s. “I was scared of ruining everything... That kiss was so perfect, but I didn’t tell you everything beforehand. That’s— I was ashamed. I was scared you were gonna hate me... I didn’t want to lose you.”

That almost broke every single one of Pearl’s hearts simultaneously. She couldn’t imagine that kind of fear, but it definitely explained all of the heavy looks and all the _guilt_. Marina was terrified Pearl was going to _leave her_ —

“You’ll never lose me,” she said quickly, right into the skin of Marina’s shoulder. “I mean it. I’m not going anywhere. We’ve been through too much.”

“I—” Marina let out a small, shaky breath. “Yeah... I...”

They sat like that in silence for a bit, hugging, Pearl with her face pressed into Marina’s shoulder, Marina with her head on top of Pearl’s. It was a small moment in the middle of their busy lives, but it felt like they were finally finding each other again.

“So,” Pearl muttered, and realized a bit belatedly that her hands were against Marina’s back, splayed across her skin. She remembered then, her silent promise to Marina, the promise of touch and connection, and she let her hands move to the side so she could clutch at her sides. “What does this mean?”

Marina pulled back. “What do you want it to mean?”

“I asked first.”

Marina sighed and Pearl grinned at her, a cheeky thing. “Full disclosure: I’ve never been in a relationship before.”

She said it in such a leading, jokey way that Pearl couldn’t help but laugh. She was so happy that she couldn’t help it. She laughed loud and long, fingers digging into Marina’s skin, and Marina grinned at her in a way that said how excited she was too.

“Well, none of mine have lasted longer than a month, so I’d say we’re about even there.” Pearl let go of Marina’s stomach so she could put her hand on Marina’s neck. “We’ll figure it out together, I guess.”

Marina smiled then and let her gaze fall. “Guess so.”

Pearl squinted at her, suddenly unsure. “Hey, you do _want_ a relationship, right?”

Marina’s head jerked up. “What? Yes! Pearl— I want... We’ve had over three years together, and I don’t want that to end. I want you...”

Pearl, who never cried at anything, felt something sting behind her eyes, and she blinked hard. Her throat was clogged now too. It was ridiculous, how soft Marina made her. “Me too,” she said, voice thick.

Marina smiled again. This time it was her turn to pull Pearl into a hug. She tugged her close and pressed her head right into the space between her shoulder and throat. Outside, there was movement in the hall, people calling for them, and a knock on the door, but neither moved. Instead, Pearl closed her eyes and swallowed hard, banishing her tears because this wasn’t something to cry over. This was something to drink in, to celebrate, to relax into and appreciate. Marina’s hands were on her back and Pearl could smell her perfume, weakened by the day, and she told herself that this was the moment she would remember, years from now, when they looked back on this with joy and nostalgia. This moment, in the middle of their busy lives, will be the most important.

“I gotta ask something,” Pearl muttered after a time, pulling back.

Marina scrubbed at her face, heedless of her makeup, and looked at her. “What?”

“Was that _really_ your first kiss? Because I know we were both exhausted so it was sloppy as hell, but you were still like... _really good_.”

Marina blushed a deep, vibrant turquoise, and bit her lip and she looked away. “I might have been practicing...” she mumbled toward her lap.

Pearl let out a loud peal of laughter and threw her arms around Marina’s neck. “It paid off!”

Marina looked up with a furrowed brow, clearly unsure if Pearl was making fun of her.

“I’m serious! In fact, it paid off so much that I wanna kiss you again!”

Marina’s mouth parted slightly as she let out a small laugh. Pearl felt something in her stomach shift with warmth. “Then why don’t you?” Marina asked.

Pearl laughed and did just that.

+++

That night (or morning, depending on your opinion), after the concert, they stumbled into the car and directed the driver to Marina’s place. Once they got there, exhausted, Marina climbed out, carrying her backpack, and leaned back into the car.

“Do you wanna...?” She shrugged toward the building. Pearl, half-asleep, merely blinked at her. “After last night, I don’t think I want to sleep alone.”

Pearl blinked once, twice, computed, a third time, and then surged forward to grab her bag. They were both spent and overstimulated and wouldn’t make it past the bed, but she wasn’t going to pass up on the opportunity to stay with Marina.

The concert was normal. They decided to keep things casual in the public for a few months, to make sure this was what they wanted, that they could handle it, but there were a few times during the concert when Pearl almost gave it all up she was so overcome with the desire to lay one on Marina. She would dance just the right way, or wink at Pearl, or hit her high notes with all the flare and practice that she was known for, and it drove Pearl wild. That was probably the most invigorated concert they’d ever put on, just by virtue of all their pent-up energy.

But now, they were crashing hard, like they always did. But Marina was leaning toward her and Pearl wasn’t about to say _no_ to more time, to another night together.

Marina lent Pearl a set of pajamas that were way too big, but Pearl made it work. She tied up the shirt and hitched the shorts up and tied the drawstring too. In the end, she felt knotted and laced into her clothes, while Marina just grinned at her from the bed, the neck of her pajama top scooping low enough to give Pearl a look at the skin on her upper chest.

They laid facing each other for a few minutes, breath pooling between them. Marina’s eyes fell closed quickly and Pearl just watched her. Her hand was curled up by her face and her mouth fell open as she breathed. Pearl watched her fingers relax and bloom open as she dropped into sleep and she carefully reached up and placed her palm on top of Marina’s, fingers loose.

In the morning, they woke curled up together, Pearl with her face pressed into the crook of Marina’s neck, hands, searching for the warmth of skin, up her shirt, resting on the washboard of her abs, and Marina arched around her, legs laced together.

They woke curled up together and Marina’s eyes were bright. Pearl smiled at her. Marina smiled back, and that was the first morning of many.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are... the end of the lost story. I hope everyone had as much fun reading it as I did when I rediscovered it in my drafts! 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who left comments and kudos on this thing! I've fallen off responding to comments because I've been so tired lately, but I've read every one at least seven times by this point. You have no idea how much the motivate me to write more. 
> 
> For the final time, comments and kudos are cherished. <3


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